


Grant One, Maybe Two

by mintdrop



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Blow Jobs, Enemies to Lovers, Graduate School, Idiots in Love, M/M, Rival Relationship, Rivalry, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28900542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintdrop/pseuds/mintdrop
Summary: Despite how long they’ve known each other and how Renjun has witnessed the entirety of their longstanding feud, he just doesn’t seem to get it. Renjun doesn’t get how Lee Jeno’s soft smiles are empty facades put in the face of their rivalry because he knows it irritates Jaemin. He doesn’t get that Lee Jeno snatches up extra study spaces and research opportunities just to get in Jaemin’s way. He doesn’t get that this grant they’re both after is reserved for just one person, the top of their department. He doesn’t get that Lee Jeno is brilliant and an actual threat to Jaemin. And he certainly doesn’t seem to get that Jaemin refuses to back down in the face of challenge. He just doesn’t get it.Or:Jaemin and Jeno are masters students battling each other for the same grant. When Jaemin finds himself stuck with sharing a study room with his long time competitor, he’s forced to come to terms with the fact that maybe there’s something else between them other than just deadlines and rivalry.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 37
Kudos: 279





	Grant One, Maybe Two

“It’s _him_ again.”

The spite in Jaemin’s voice as he declares this is akin to venom, like poisonous fumes radiating from every pore of his body to sour the atmosphere around him. He doesn’t hide the way his eyes narrow or the frown that sets deeply on his lips. He just stares at the text boldly displayed on his laptop like it had betrayed him. Which, ultimately, it did.

“Oh?” Renjun sighs from his side, barely looking up from his phone as he scrolls through his social media. “And what, pray tell, has Lee Jeno done to personally offend you this time?”

“He booked the last available conference room in the graduate library for the rest of the day,” Jaemin tells him through gritted teeth, still glaring at his laptop screen. It could have been anyone else in their entire department, but it had to be _him_. The bane of his existence. The one obstacle that stood between him and the grant that he had been working hard for for the past year and a half. That _Lee Jeno_.

“Junnie, can you be a little more concerned? This affects you too.”

At that, Renjun relents and finally pockets his phone, giving Jaemin his attention in the form of a blank, absolutely _un_ affected look. As if his bland response wasn’t enough, he shrugs and simply says, “Let’s just ask if we can share the room.”

Share the room?

 _Share_? With _Lee Jeno_?

Jaemin looks at Renjun as if he had just suggested jumping off a cliff or consuming toxic waste. Both things Jaemin probably would have considered instead of sharing an enclosed space with Lee Jeno for the next several hours. He has at least a dozen different ways he wants to express how horrible of an idea it is, but instead settles for a long cool stare atop his pointed frown.

“Bold of you to assume I would be able to get anything done with him around.”

“Oh yeah,” Renjun says, unblinking. “Because you’re in love with him.”

In... _love_? With _Lee Jeno_?

It’s the funniest thing Renjun has said in a while, and Jaemin throws his head back to laugh obnoxiously as a response. The hilarity of even the _concept_ of him being _in love_ with _Lee Jeno_ , his ultimate rival, fuels Jaemin’s laughter further until he doubles over. Heads turn their way at the sheer volume of the laughter, but Renjun is so used to it, he just continues to sit there with an unimpressed expression.

Despite how long they’ve known each other and how Renjun has witnessed the entirety of their longstanding feud, he just doesn’t seem to get it. Renjun doesn’t get how Lee Jeno’s soft smiles are empty facades put in the face of their rivalry because he knows it irritates Jaemin. He doesn’t get that Lee Jeno snatches up extra study spaces and research opportunities just to get in Jaemin’s way. He doesn’t get that this grant they’re both after is reserved for just one person, the top of their department. He doesn’t get that Lee Jeno is brilliant and an actual threat to Jaemin. And he certainly doesn’t seem to get that Jaemin refuses to back down in the face of challenge. He just doesn’t get it.

“If you’re finished, we still have a deadline,” Renjun informs him once Jaemin’s hysterical laughter finally calms. “So we can either ask Jeno if we can share his spacious, distraction-free conference room or you can go back to your dorm room and pretend to not be watching dramas instead of writing again.”

“It was background noise,” Jaemin defends with a sniff.

“You were crying.”

“B-Because of the paper!”

Renjun gives him an unimpressed look. “So you’re fine with how Sanwoo proposed?”

“He’s a cheating bastard and Jiyoung deserved better,” Jaemin blurts heatedly before he could stop himself. The desire to kick himself is strong, but fortunately, he’s great at recovery. “...not that I was watching.”

Yup. Flawless.

“ _Right_. Now enough of this nonsense. Let’s go.”

Renjun must have been done humoring him because he tosses his empty coffee cup into the trash and begins walking without another word. The quick pace has Jaemin scrambling to gather his things and jogging lightly after him, surprised.

“Where are we going?”

“The graduate conference room.”

“I told you, I’m not going to ask Jeno to share.”

“You won’t have to. I already asked Donghyuck, and Jeno said it was fine.”

The cool stab of betrayal is harsh. Renjun may as well have told him his favorite coffee shop was closing forever. Jaemin puts his hand over his heart to emphasize this point, an additional theatric to the dramatically wounded expression on his face.

“When did you even do that?” he sniffs unhappily when Renjun doesn’t stop walking, let alone spare him a glance.

“While you were laughing like a weirdo,” Renjun informs humorlessly. He’s heartless in the face of deadlines, and Jaemin should have known. But he still hadn’t expected his best friend to sell him out to his worst enemy.

“Stop being dramatic,” Renjun interrupts his thoughts this time, probably sensing the internal psychological struggle Jaemin was inducing on himself. A moment of weakness allows him to have his arm seized, and Jaemin latches on mercilessly like a koala hanging for dear life. Renjun can do nothing but sigh at this point. “I really don’t get what your problem with Jeno is. He’s like, one of the nicest guys ever?”

Jaemin frowns. “A snake in a bonnet may be nice but it’s still a snake.”

“ _What_?”

“He’s got it out for me, Junnie.”

“You’re delusional.”

Jaemin manages to squeeze in a half dozen more analogies for wickedness and a minor tirade of whining before they arrive at the large glass façade of the library. Only then does he finally accept his fate that: a) Renjun would not be dissuaded, and b) he would truly be in an enclosed space with his rival to endure his diabolical tormenting for the rest of the day.

Pausing at the door, he gives it one last shot: “Maybe we don’t really need the resources here? We can go to that cafe and siphon undergrad research materials—”

Renjun simply rolls his eyes and scowls, “Get your prideful ass inside before I knock you out and drag you.”

Jaemin knows logically that he’s stronger and could probably resist a physical attack by Renjun. However, he also confidently knows that Renjun would not hesitate to fight dirty in all his unbridled rage to knock him out if he truly wanted to. So with that knowledge, he sniffs pitifully and pulls open the door for them to walk through.

Renjun beelines for the conference room without any preamble, leaving Jaemin to sulkily drag his feet after him. He’s tiptoeing to peer through the window of the door when Jaemin finally joins him after his dramatic walk. Seeming to have found who he’s looking for, Renjun smiles and waves a little before resting back on his heels to shoot Jaemin a chastising look.

“ _Behave_ ,” he scowls before pulling the door open.

Jaemin wants to tell him he looks like a disgruntled grade school teacher, but he knows his friend would flip that on him immediately so he keeps his mouth shut.

Both Jeno and Donghyuck look up when Jaemin follows Renjun in. In the wide expanse of the room, the two of them take up only a small amount of space at one end of the long table with laptops, books, and papers spread between them. Jaemin catches Donghyuck wink and purse his lips to shoot a flying kiss at Renjun, who maturely responds by holding up his middle finger. Despite their weird cat fight-like antics, Jaemin knows the two of them are close, considering how many coffee runs they had gone on together in the past week alone. Perhaps that was why Renjun had the entirely misconceived perception that he and Jeno actually like each other too.

They don’t though. At least, Jaemin doesn’t. So he ignores Jeno’s sweet (but surely secretly sinister) little smile and wave at him, because he knows better than to show weakness in the face of his enemy.

The corner that Donghyuck and Jeno are set up in is better lit and more spacious. It’s obviously the more comfortable side, as most students, including Jaemin himself, usually sat there. And even though Renjun makes his way over and sets up next to Donghyuck without a second thought, Jaemin still flees to the opposite end of the table in the darker side of the room, as far from the rest of them he could get. As far from _Lee Jeno_ he could get.

“Jaemin, what are you doing?” Renjun sighs while Jaemin is busy shimmying between two stacks of chairs to get into the far corner.

“Nothing,” he denies immediately, frowning. “My laptop is dying and I need to charge it, okay?”

“The outlets are on this side,” Donghyuck informs him with a smirk that Jaemin immediately feels ill at. “Next to Jeno.”

“Of course they are, the power hog,” Jaemin mutters to himself under his breath. Louder, he lies, “Nevermind, I’m set for now. I just like the feeling of chairs stacked around me, you know? The ominous shade reminds me of my looming deadlines. This is a metaphor for my life.”

Renjun, in his infinite knowledge, gets the idea but still rolls his eyes. Thankfully, it seems like he decides to spare Jaemin for once and waves him off with the back of his hand. “Whatever, weirdo. Do what you want then.”

Jaemin had been planning to anyway.

His laptop however, has a different idea.

Seventeen minutes into their work session, despite battery saving mode and silent prayers to whatever technology gods exist, Jaemin’s laptop dies from lack of power. He knew it would come to this; he just hadn’t known it would come so soon. Part of him wants to run back home and deal with the consequences, but the other part grudgingly admits that although short, the last seventeen minutes had been incredibly productive. Damn libraries for being conducive to working!

When he slowly stands up, no one says anything, and he’s grateful for that at least. Renjun still shoots him his familiar “I told you so, idiot” look though, which Jaemin just accepts. This time. Even still, he wants to sit in the safety of Renjun’s proximity, where the most he would have to endure is a scowl or two. But Renjun is seated next to Donghyuck because he clearly doesn’t care about Jaemin’s well-being. On Donghyuck’s other side is Jeno, silently and obliviously scrutinizing his laptop screen, and on Jeno’s other side is the only power outlet in the entire room. It doesn’t take a genius to map out that sitting next to Renjun would leave him out of reach of the outlet. Jaemin truly hates that it has to come to this.

He gathers his things and saunters towards the seat next to Jeno at the pace of a snail. Somehow, he had thought if he went slowly enough, the others would just ignore him. Apparently however, it has the opposite effect, as the slowness of his motions is strange enough that Donghyuck raises an eyebrow at him and Renjun shakes his head in secondhand embarrassment. Only when Jeno finally looks up in confusion does Jaemin let out a grumble and march the rest of the way over, subtlety be damned.

He sits down next to Jeno and plugs in his laptop as quietly and delicately as he can manage. On Jeno’s other side, Donghyuck and Renjun are rapidly texting (probably to each other) while sharing suspicious expressions of devilish glee. Jaemin chooses to ignore that and definitely does _not_ make note of Jeno smiling at him in his periphery.

No one else says anything else (aloud) about his embarrassing laptop mishap so Jaemin is able to get back to work in peace.

Again, the good thing about working in the library is the productivity and focus induced by the environment. The downside is that he completely loses track of time. Jaemin doesn’t know how long he had been staring at his laptop, just that his eyes were aching from dryness to the point where he could practically hear his blinks. With a small sigh, he pushes back a little to straighten his stiff back and wearily rub at his burning eyes.

The sound of shuffling beside him doesn’t disturb him, but Jeno’s soft voice does.

“Here, don’t rub. Use these,” he says quietly when Jaemin slowly lowers his hands from his eyes.

What Jeno offers him once his blurry vision comes back into focus is a few small vials of preservative-free artificial tears. Exactly the brand he usually uses. Suspicious, he side eyes his rival, trying to get a read on his intent.

“You suffer from dry eye syndrome, right?”

Jaemin continues to size him up distrustfully. “How do you know about that?”

“Besides the fact that it would have been a good guess for any grad student?” Jeno chuckles cheekily. “You walked in late for a seminar last year in a cactus shirt and announced it to everyone. It was so weird. Kind of hard to forget.”

“I don’t remember that at all,” Donghyuck butts in.

“Me neither,” Renjun chimes in as well.

Jaemin purses his lips to form a tiny frown at the same time Jeno shoots a look over his shoulder, making both Donghyuck and Renjun immediately drop their heads behind their laptops again. He’s wary enough that he remains hesitant, unsure of what kind of ploy Jeno has in mind. But he’s also tortured enough that the mere thought of moisture for his parched eyes makes him tremble weakly.

In the end, he decides on relief over ego and takes the little plastic vials from Jeno’s annoyingly cool fingers. Grudgingly, he rips the cap off the first vial and drops them in with a back tilt of his head. For some reason through all of it, Jeno keeps talking to him.

“Extended computer usage and blue light exposure will make the dryness worse. Especially since we forget to blink when we're staring at screens,” Jeno is saying. “Try to take breaks to blink and look out in the distance every twenty minutes or so.”

The moment feels surreal to Jaemin. Here he sits, shockingly willingly, next to his sworn enemy with tears, albeit artificial, running down his cheeks. All the while said sworn enemy is nonchalantly giving him eye care advice like some kind of doting optometrist—or worse, a _friend_.

“Since when did you become an expert on dry eye?” Jaemin asks stiffly, wiping the excess tears off his cheeks with the back of his hand.

Before Jeno can say anything, Donghyuck cuts in smugly: “Probably last year when you walked in late for a seminar wearing a cactus shirt complaining about it.”

Jaemin is unsure if it’s a dig at him or Jeno, but Jeno does turn swiftly on his friend, effectively shutting him up the very next second. He’s still puzzling over it warily when Jeno abruptly rises to his feet and drags Donghyuck up with him.

“We’ll be right back,” Jeno says with a strained smile.

“Bring back coffee!” Renjun calls as they struggle out the door together. His caffeine addiction truly knows no bounds.

Once they’re gone, Renjun slides over to fill Jeno’s abandoned seat. He graciously allows Jaemin a few moments of peace before stating matter-of-factly, “Look me in the eye _now_ and tell me Lee Jeno isn’t the nicest guy in the world.”

Slowly and deliberately, Jaemin turns toward his friend and gently takes his shoulders in his hands. Fixing him with a direct look, he says resolutely, “Pure, sweet, naïve Junnie. I love you.”

Renjun gives him a sickened look.

“But,” Jaemin continues without batting a lash, “Lee Jeno is collecting information about my weaknesses to use against me.”

The eye roll that Renjun gives in response to that is truly impressive, likely a full 360, if Jaemin has to guess. Matched with a similarly impressive groan, his friend swats his hands off his shoulders.

“You’re truly irrevocably delusional,” Renjun flatly tells him for the second time that day. “He was obviously just trying to be nice.”

“You said it yourself,” Jaemin retorts, unaffected. “The average person, and by that I mean you and Donghyuck, doesn’t remember arbitrary details about my life. Only my arch-nemesis would make note of my weaknesses like that. Who knows what he’s planning?”

“Indeed,” Renjun retorts dryly.

Jaemin sighs, unconsciously rubbing his eyes again until he remembers he was just advised not to. Annoying rivalry aside, it’s still sound advice. Irritated with that realization, he drops his hands back down onto the desk and stares at his laptop.

“Look, just because he’s nice to you doesn’t mean it’s the same with me. We’ve been doing this for over a year. We’re competitors, okay?”

At that, Renjun regards him truly for what feels like the first time all day. And while he could tell his friend’s strained silence implies he has more to say on the topic, he gets off with just: “Are you sure you’re not the only one that feels that way?”

“Positive,” Jaemin replies without missing a beat.

His tone is decisive enough that Renjun decides to let it go with just a shake of his head. He returns to his original seat again, leaving Jaemin to stare at his screen in silence. They probably could have argued on it more, Jaemin acknowledges, but as time continues to tick away, he’s reminded of the more pressing concern looming over him: the deadline for his proposal. Or: the only reason he sat where he was.

He gets in a few more minutes of work before the door of the conference room quietly opens again, announcing Jeno and Donghyuck’s return. Out of the corner of his eye, Jaemin sees Renjun perk in pleasant surprise when Donghyuck hands him a white take out cup, likely of his requested coffee. He doesn’t actually move, however, until Jeno sets down a cup next to his own hand.

Frowning, he asks, “What’s that?”

Jeno looks back at him owlishly. “Iced americano with three extra shots? It’s what you like to drink, isn’t it?”

It is, in fact, what he likes to drink. He ignores the feel of Renjun’s heated gaze of judgement on him.

“I didn’t want to get you so much caffeine so late in the evening since it’s not good for you, but I guessed it would be okay today if you’re on a deadline crunch for your proposal,” Jeno continues to say, completely uninvited. “You’ll need it, won’t you?”

“Don’t rub it in,” Jaemin replies with a deeper frown.

Renjun is clearly shaking his head in exasperation at him, but Jeno simply chuckles. Infuriatingly. Regardless, he takes a long sip from the cup, biting the straw in a tiny show of spite.

He doesn’t thank Jeno, nor does Jeno ask him to. He simply sits back down with his own cup and gets back to work, typing away at his laptop as if nothing had happened.

Jaemin wants to do the same, but a chat notification pops up in the corner of his laptop screen.

 _Huang Renjun_ : He knows your coffee order.

Jaemin lets his eyes flick up to make contact with his friend, who is staring intently at him. Unfazed, he looks back down on the screen when another message pops up.

 _Huang Renjun_ : Not even the weird 8 shots order. Your UPDATED coffee order.

 _Huang Renjun_ : That’s nice guy culture.

 _Huang Renjun_ : I’ve gotten coffee with Donghyuck four times this week and he still got mine wrong.

 _Na Jaemin_ : Data mining

 _Huang Renjun_ : WH????

 _Huang Renjun_ : HOW COULD HE POSSIBLY?!?

Instead of arguing further, Jaemin logs out of the chat client and ignores the way Renjun makes a suppressed sound of frustration. He doesn’t have any further interest in arguing with his friend on the matter, and as time ticks by, he feels increasingly anxious.

The proposal is due tomorrow at the end of the day. And while he has undeniably been working diligently on it for weeks, he has yet to feel satisfied with the final draft. The document in front of him is labeled “Final Draft 4 - FINAL FINAL 3 - FINAL FOR SURE THIS TIME 2,” and still perhaps not even a true reflection of his number of revisions. There’s something terrifying about finally hitting the submit button; like a single stroke to seal his fate. He wants to be confident in his work, but the longer he waits, the more nail-bitingly nervous he gets.

Anxiety gets him to focus on his work again, shutting out everything other than his laptop. Renjun, Donghyuck, and even Jeno blend into the background, leaving him with nothing but text and his thoughts.

Time passes without him noticing. The fluorescent lighting keeps the room brightly lit even as darkness bleeds in from the hours. Only when his strained eyes ache from dryness again does he sit back again and breathe.

“Do you need more drops?”

The sound of Jeno’s voice makes Jaemin glance over sideways. To his surprise, Jeno is the only one beside him suddenly, as Donghyuck and Renjun’s seats were rudely abandoned. Irritatingly unbothered as always, Jeno continues tapping at his laptop without even a look in Jaemin’s direction as he speaks. Honestly, the _disrespect_.

Despite not giving Jeno the satisfaction of an answer, Jaemin still snatches the plastic vials of tears from the table where they lay, conveniently positioned by his laptop. When had Jeno even taken out more? And where the hell are Renjun and Donghyuck?

“If you’re wondering about them,” starts Jeno, annoyingly reading his mind, “they left to get food a little while ago. Renjun said not to break your focus and promised to bring you back something.”

At that exact moment, Jaemin’s hunger decides to make itself known in the form of a loud rumble—loud enough to make Jeno glance over in amusement. Only then does Jaemin wonder just how long he had been working without consciousness of the world around him.

“You haven’t moved for almost four hours.”

Indignant that his mind had somehow been read yet again, Jaemin retorts, “Shouldn’t you be focusing on your own proposal instead of monitoring me the whole time?”

“I have to make sure you’re doing your best.”

His reply is borderline mocking, only offset by his expression of (feigned) innocence. That he did all of this while still typing nonchalantly only serves to irritate Jaemin more. The facade of constant cool collectedness infuriates him. Jaemin wants nothing more than to see him messed up; preferably in defeat after Jaemin wins the grant.

“Spying on my ideas won’t help you improve your work.”

Somehow, Jeno manages to smile. “Don’t worry about that. I already submitted my proposal three days ago.”

Ah. That’s why.

That’s one of the things about Lee Jeno: he’s efficient as he is effective. As much as Jaemin dreads to think so, he knows his rival’s work is probably brilliant, even without as much time spent suffering over revisions. Jeno’s confidence makes him somewhat envious—not that he would fully acknowledge it aloud.

“I’m just taking extra care with revisions,” he says stiffly, petty implications fully intended.

If he takes offense, Jeno doesn’t show it. Instead, he replies, “If you’re still not feeling satisfied after final draft 7, maybe you could consider asking someone else to review it. A fresh look from an outsider could help.”

“Who would I ask?” Jaemin frowns. “ _You_?”

Jeno finally laughs and turns to look at him at that. His unaffected demeanor gives Jaemin a different kind of anxiety; one that settles in a way he definitely doesn’t like.

“Why not ask Doyoung-hyung?”

Jaemin’s lips settle into a thin line as they press together. He’s never said it aloud, but Doyoung is another sore spot for him.

When they had first been told of their peer mentor, aside from having to share him with Jeno, Jaemin was ecstatic. Even in his first year as a master’s student, Jaemin knew of Kim Doyoung. His work as a PhD candidate was well respected and his personality even more so. Getting him as a mentor felt like a blessing too good to be true.

What disappointed him was not their ability to work together, but rather Doyoung’s apparent penchant for Jeno over him. Even if he never explicitly said so and still did all that he could to attend to them both, Doyoung had a favorite, Jaemin could tell, and it certainly wasn’t him.

Ever since coming to that conclusion, Jaemin avoided Doyoung as much as he could despite the regret he felt on an intellectual level. That in mind, he’s unsure if he’s desperate enough at this time to retouch that sore spot, even though it’s technically not a bad suggestion on Jeno’s part.

Instead of explaining himself, he simply mutters, “It’s already so late and close to the deadline. I don’t know if he could—”

“Hyung’s really good and fast at these things,” Jeno interrupts confidently. “He revised mine too. Plus, he knows about our deadline. He’s been asking about you a lot, you know.”

Jaemin did not, in fact, know because he had been inconspicuously ignoring Doyoung’s messages for some time now. Ultimately, he shouldn’t be surprised Doyoung would ask Jeno about him. It just surprises him that he cared enough to do so.

“Why not let him help you?” Jeno smiles. “You don’t have to suffer as much as you force yourself to.”

To that, Jaemin gives a little credit. As much as it pains him to admit Jeno is right about something, he accepts that he’s probably putting himself under more stress than he needs to. Scholars before and after him have and always will rely on the scrutiny of peer revision. He could probably stand to relieve himself of at least a little pride.

“Besides,” Jeno suddenly drawls with a sharp and somewhat fatal side smirk, “You’ll want to present your best work if you want a chance to beat me. Take all the help you can get.”

Yes, this is the smug, competitive Jeno that Jaemin so intimately knows. Not the gentle nice guy façade that Renjun is so sold on; the Lee Jeno that Jaemin knows is all deadly stares and borderline pompous taunts. Always ready to provoke or goad on, Lee Jeno as a rival is sharp as a blade and searing as a hot poker. He takes discernable glee in provoking Jaemin at any opportunity—that is, as long as they’re alone.

“You’re such an ass,” Jaemin scowls.

Jeno just lets his lids drop to half mast and licks his lips as if the words were tantalizing.

“You know I love seeing you riled up.”

Despite their quarrel, Jaemin reluctantly decides to send Doyoung his draft after all. It’s times like these it’s best to utilize his peer mentor, he justifies. Guilt notwithstanding as Doyoung’s enthusiastic text messages light up his phone, Jaemin sheepishly resigns himself. Maybe his mild jealousy over favoritism is a little inconsequential. Doyoung seems genuinely thrilled to be asked to help.

With Doyoung’s promise to have feedback delivered by morning latest, well before the deadline, Jaemin sighs in relief and truly looks away from the document for the first time in what feels like weeks. He feels his whole body slacken with relief. Jeno doesn’t miss the action, and turns to him with a cheeky grin that Jaemin wishes he could ignore.

“You finally obeyed like a good boy?”

Jaemin glowers darkly. If only Renjun were here to hear _that_.

“You’re always giving out unwelcome advice. Statistically, you’d have to say something worthwhile at least once in a few hundred.”

“Haven’t you been listening to me well all day though?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Optometrist.” Jaemin side glares at him for good measure. “You just love getting off on telling me what to do, don’t you?”

“I’ve already said I love seeing you riled up. Even better if I’m the one doing it.” The look Jeno flashes back at him is downright devilish. “Besides, wouldn’t you like to know what gets me off?”

The confidence with which he speaks lights a fire in Jaemin that makes him lose all rational thought. It’s somewhere between rage and sick frustration, with something else unspeakable. Something else he doesn’t deign to acknowledge.

Unfortunately, his rising temper does little to intelligently filter his mouth.

“You really think being smart and sexy gives you license to say whatever you want, huh?”

Despite the snideness of his tone, the words themselves are difficult to take back, and they both realize what had been revealed at the same time. Jaemin looks away from Jeno’s stunned wide-eyed expression, internally berating his carelessness. It’s for thoughtless moments like this, when he says something stupid in delirium of stress, that he’s avoided being alone with Jeno for any reason. He glares long and hard at the table, not fully conscious of the way Jeno rolls his seat closer.

“So,” his rival begins slowly, deep voice reverberating in Jaemin’s ears. “You find me sexy, huh?”

He’s absolutely done for; hoping the slip would be dismissed was nothing but a delusion. As aggravating as it is, Jaemin accepts that he should be allowed to make generalized statements. Especially if they’re begrudgingly true.

Forget recovery; he would just have to own it now.

He scowls, “You may be my annoying rival, but I do have eyes.”

If Jeno could be more surprised, he doesn’t reveal it more than the briefest widening of his eyes before narrowing down again. He’s emboldened by the words, Jaemin could tell, but Jaemin refuses to give him the satisfaction of letting his gaze dominate him. So he stares back indignantly, keeping his face neutral even when the other cages him against the desk and chair with his well-toned arms.

“Yeah?” Jeno breathes, licking his lips again in a manner Jaemin could only describe as _sultry_. He presses in closer to match Jaemin’s defiant gaze. Voice dropping to a murmur, he says, “I find you pretty sexy too. Glad to know the feeling’s mutual.”

He’s infuriating. Insufferable, blood boiling, enraging. He’s—

—stupidly, _stupidly_ incredible at kissing.

Jaemin is unclear on who initiated the action. He hates to admit that he paid his fair contribution in bringing them closer, if his tightly clenched fist on the collar of Jeno’s shirt is evidence enough. One minute, he was thinking about how badly he wanted Jeno to shut up, and the next he’s pulling him closer so hard, Jeno nearly falls into his lap. He doesn’t know what he’s thinking. Maybe nothing. Really, he doesn’t want to think in general anymore.

Jeno’s lips are soft and a little coffee-flavored still, firm in all the right places and just aggressive enough in all the right ways. He’s leaning over Jaemin enough that Jaemin tilts his head back under the weight, but still pushing back hard with his lips. Jaemin thinks the stress he was carrying from working on his proposal must have made him insane. Why else would he be so desperately fisting the shirt of his enemy while all conscious thought was kissed out of him?

When Jeno gently bites his lip, Jaemin’s eyes shoot back open (he hadn’t realized he closed them). The vision that greets him is Jeno’s hazy expression, a little unfocused but still so clearly base. It ignites a frustrating feeling in Jaemin’s chest that he had long been trying to quash:

Lust.

“So you might be interested in getting me off after all, hmm?”

Even without directly looking, Jaemin practically hears Jeno’s pleased smirk. Despite the fiery irritation he feels and any logical sense he has left, he doesn’t release his grip on Jeno’s shirt. Jeno doesn’t seem to mind either, as he maneuvers his long legs carefully to rest on Jaemin’s seat, folded neatly next to Jaemin’s thighs.

“Shut _up_ ,” Jaemin manages to grit out. His traitorous hand pulls Jeno closer again for another harsh kiss with his traitorous mouth.

Jeno is chuckling into the kiss this time, making Jaemin’s blood boil. His heart is racing in a way that feels almost uncomfortable. Is this what high blood pressure is like? Or maybe he’s just dying?

Any further thoughts immediately short circuit when Jeno brings a hand up to curve around the back of his neck. It’s like a switch is flipped, and Jaemin’s mind just...stops. It’s relieving and liberating in a way. Nothing is left other than a _good_ sort of buzz and the vague awareness of Jeno pressing closer to him.

When Jeno finally frees his lips to trail his teeth down Jaemin’s neck, Jaemin swallows deeply and declares decisively, “T-This is just payback.”

“Oh?” Jeno breathes warmly on the wet trails he’s left. “You consider _this_ revenge?”

“Ugh, no. It’s payment.”

“For what?”

“The eye drops.”

Jeno guffaws disbelievingly. “You mean this is for me but you’ve got your hand up my shirt?”

Does he?

...he does. And it’s running amok stroking that damned perfectly toned chest of his too.

Jaemin curses under his breath at the realization. Even though his face feels hot at getting caught, his cursed hand still doesn’t retract from Jeno’s chest. At least, not quickly. In fact, it’s kind of going at a snail’s pace, caressing more than actually pulling away.

Despite the absurdity of it all, Jeno doesn’t actually seem to mind. An amused hum escapes his lips, and he makes no move to pull back. A fraction of a shift more and he would be fully on Jaemin’s lap. Needless to say, he doesn’t lift a finger to remove Jaemin’s hand from his chest either.

Inexplicably mesmerized, Jaemin’s fingertips flick across a nipple.

At that, Jeno lets out a puff of air. A low tone follows, a borderline moan, and the tip of his tongue pokes out of the side of his mouth.

“Mm, if this is thanks for the drops,” he begins lazily, “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got for me for the coffee. Or the advice.” He smirks and lets his tongue flick over to the other corner of his mouth, making Jaemin stare. “Or this conference room.”

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“ _That_. With your tongue,” Jaemin scowls. “You got an oral fixation or something?”

The way Jeno grins has Jaemin regretting his thoughtless words immediately. It’s been a long time weakness that he blurts out whatever’s on his mind without thinking, and here, with Jeno, it really keeps him in hot water. He decides to put a stronger effort into monitoring his verbal slips, but the damage is already done.

“Want to find out?”

Jeno punctuates his words with a strategically placed hand in Jaemin’s lap, and Jaemin bites his lower lip to keep any embarrassing sounds from slipping. His thighs wobbly snap shut. Unfortunately, the action just serves to trap Jeno’s hand in place rather than push him away.

This is where Jaemin reaches an internal dilemma. What would be more damaging to his ego: admitting his long time rival was able to give him a boner in the library and attempting to walk it off or letting said rival...do something about it?

His eyes flick downward for a moment, gaining a small amount of pride back seeing that Jeno seems to be similarly affected by whatever it is they’re doing. His sweatpants don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and Jaemin’s weirdly grateful for that. For validating himself, of course.

After what feels like a millenia, he convinces himself it’s a power move rather than an embarrassment to give Jeno the _privilege_ to touch him. After all, Jeno’s the one with his hand on Jaemin’s crotch and offering so diligently (regardless of the fact his own hand is still under Jeno’s shirt). Maybe this is his opportunity to see his always put together rival messed up— _begging_ for him.

Or, _god_ , maybe it’s just been too long.

“F-Fine,” he eventually chokes out. He wears a frown in an image of nonchalance.

“Really?” Jeno looks surprised and honestly, a little thrilled. His pupils dilate almost visibly, and Jaemin can see his own reflection in them. It’s a little unnerving to watch, so Jaemin arches up to kiss him again.

After a few long moments of kissing and Jaemin squirming a little uncomfortably against the hand still in his lap, Jeno pulls back just enough to align their sight again. He’s once again grinning in that way that makes Jaemin’s stomach flip uncomfortably. With his damn tongue dipping out again, he murmurs, “Not here.”

Only then does Jaemin fully realize what they were doing in the library of all places, in plain sight where Renjun and Donghyuck could have walked back in at any moment. He has the decency to flush, but also doesn’t move either.

“Come to my place.”

Jaemin frowns. “Why don’t _you_ come to _my_ place?”

“Because you have a roommate in the dorm, and I have a single apartment.” Jeno rolls his eyes. “Unless you really do want to put on a performance?”

Jaemin pretends the idea didn’t give him a weird sense of thrill and turns his head to look away in frustration. There’s a number of reasons why he doesn’t want to go to Jeno’s place, but above all—

Jeno sighs. “I promise I won’t make you stay. You can leave whenever you want.”

How he still manages to do the mind reading thing is both a mystery and a frustration. But Jaemin accepts it for now, as well as the arrangement. Quietly, he mutters again, “Fine.”

The next minute is spent clumsily grabbing his laptop and bare essentials. He’s probably left half his belongings on the table and floor and near ripped his AC adapter out of the outlet, but his mind is cloudy enough that he can’t bring himself to care. Vaguely, he thinks he’ll probably owe Renjun an apology for ditching him. And at least he can count on his friend to gather the rest of his things.

He’s probably out of his mind enough that he allows Jeno to drag him through campus by holding his hand. To be fair, it’s the dark of night, Jaemin doesn’t know where Jeno lives, and they were at least somewhere between fast walking and jogging. All he knows is that the minutes spent walking pass in a blur and soon he’s tapping his foot impatiently as Jeno juggles with his keys to unlock his door.

The moment the door is shut behind him, Jeno backs him up against it with a searing kiss. His hands are much, _much_ bolder in the privacy of his own home, running down the length of Jaemin’s body without a hint of shame.

Jaemin only relinquishes his laptop, which he had been clutching to his chest, when Jeno carefully takes it from him and lays it safely aside. Then he’s dragging Jeno back by with a firm grip on his t-shirt until they’re pressed against the door again.

They’re all lips and teeth until Jeno’s wicked tongue gets the opening to dive into Jaemin’s mouth. It’s annoying, somehow, to find out this way that Jeno really is skilled with his tongue. Jaemin never thought he’d ever feel his knees buckle just from a kiss, but damn Lee Jeno was doing it to him. He loops his arms under Jeno’s to hold his shoulders from behind in attempt to stay stable. And he definitely doesn’t imagine what that skillful tongue could do to his cock.

Jeno kisses the same way he works, somehow: diligently, with all of his effort, precisely and passionately. Jaemin tries not to think about that assessment and what it means, especially when Jeno’s hand slips down to firmly grab his ass. The grip pulls them impossibly closer, and Jaemin no longer finds it possible to suppress the moan he had been holding back.

Jeno swallows the sound greedily and wedges a leg between Jaemin’s. He continues as if he doesn’t need to breathe; like stealing Jaemin’s breath is all he needs to survive.

When Jaemin finally gets the opportunity to fill his lungs again, he lets his head fall back to rest against the door. Jeno doesn’t miss the opportunity to latch his lips onto his exposed neck, nipping all along its length.

“Well?” Jaemin manages to mutter, making Jeno look up at him. Putting on his haughtiest expression and using his most challenging tone, he asks, “Is that all you wanted to show me?”

“Oh?” Jeno grins with his tongue again, eyes curving and eyebrows dropping low. “You want more, baby?”

Jaemin makes a face at the nickname, though the urgency of his need keeps him from snapping back. Pressing a tiny kiss to Jeno’s lips and lightly biting his lower lip, he whispers against them, “Don’t you have better things you can do with your mouth?”

He’s always grudgingly credited Jeno with being smart, so it’s not a surprise that his rival gets the hint after that. The smirk he flashes is a little annoying, but Jaemin decides to overlook it as Jeno obediently drops down to his knees.

He expected Jeno to be rough with him, to tear his pants down and have his way. He didn’t expect Jeno to instead close his eyes prettily and gingerly press his lips over the bulge in his pants, to mouth at him delicately like a caress. Somehow, this is more embarrassing than if Jeno had stripped him bare like a savage. It’s a little unnerving; it’s terribly intimate.

By the time Jeno’s fingers slip under the waistband of his pants and briefs to slowly pull them down, Jaemin already lost the will to watch. The cool air hits his achingly hot flesh like a shock, though it doesn’t stay cool for long, as Jeno nuzzles the length with his warm cheek. At that, Jaemin abashedly lets his gaze drop back down.

If he felt embarrassed watching Jeno mouth him while cloth was still there, he’s completely overwhelmed making eye contact with his rival as he sweetly nuzzles his cock. Jeno’s eyes are black and dangerous, his lips moist and slightly parted, a promise of what’s to come. Suddenly Jaemin can’t breathe, and his mind switches off again.

Jeno takes his sweet time enveloping Jaemin’s erection. His lips paused first at the tip, letting his tongue swirl about there like he was tasting his favorite lollipop. When he’s finally satisfied with the choked sounds Jaemin makes, he moves again at a painstaking pace. He’s so slow and careful, Jaemin almost wants to scream. If not for Jeno’s strong grip on his hips keeping him in place, Jaemin might have bucked into him in frustration.

When Jeno’s lips finally reach the base, Jaemin lets out a long suffering moan. His knees buckle a little, and he has to lean back against the door to keep himself from falling.

The feeling is impossibly incredible.

Whether or not it’s the oral fixation Jaemin accused him of or just his skillful mouth, Jeno is mind-numbingly good. Every swirl of his tongue, every bob of his head, every loving ministration leaves Jaemin breathless and weak. He doesn’t know when he put his hand in Jeno’s hair or how to stop himself from moaning loudly anymore. He just knows this is better than he’s felt in ages—maybe even ever.

The first wake-up call he gets is when he feels Jeno’s hands move to squeeze his buttocks again. The second is when he feels those strong fingertips unyieldingly trace a ring around his hole. The shock of it makes him yelp and buck forward, unintentionally jamming his cock down Jeno’s throat.

He has enough good sense to feel guilty when Jeno chokes a little and pulls his mouth back. Awkwardly, he stammers, “S-Sorry…”

Surprisingly, Jeno doesn’t look upset. In fact, he looks...amused? Even in the darkness of the apartment, Jaemin can tell he’s grinning.

“Don’t be,” Jeno tells him cheekily, wiping saliva from his lips. “I take it you liked that?”

Jaemin pauses for a moment. Partially because he didn’t expect the question, and partially because he’s hesitant to answer. At least, hesitant to answer truthfully. Surprise aside, he’s pretty loathe to admit that...yeah. He did kind of like it.

God, it really has been too long. Damn grant competition.

Only when Jeno is gleefully grinning at him does Jaemin realize his mouth had taken off without his permission again and stated his thoughts aloud. Again. He bites his lip to keep his mouth shut this time, only to have Jeno stand up and kiss him there.

“Please don’t kiss me after sucking me off.”

Jeno laughs out loud at that, pulling back with a devastatingly charming expression. “Why? It’s your own dick. And it’s not like you came yet.”

Jaemin doesn’t have a proper response to that, and somehow hearing those lewd words coming from Lee Jeno’s mouth makes him actually feel embarrassed. The tips of his ears burn uncharacteristically hot at the realization. Frustratingly, Jeno must have noticed because he chuckles quietly and places a shockingly soft peck on his cheek.

“Cutie.”

He steps away and disappears into the dark of his apartment before Jaemin can decide if the comment is mocking or not. Instead, he stands dumbfounded in the foyer with his back still to the door and pants around his ankles. Was he supposed to follow Jeno? Or were they done? His aching cock twitches a little in discontent at the latter thought.

Fortunately, he’s spared from further speculation when Jeno reappears, rubbing his hands together suspiciously. Jaemin doesn’t get even a moment to ask before the other is back on his knees and swallowing his erection whole again. The suddenness of it all nearly makes him slam his whole body backwards.

He’s wrapped in nothing but good sensations as Jeno resumes his work on his cock, bobbing his head diligently and sucking lavishly like he loved it. Uncontrollably, Jaemin’s hands shoot back down to the thick of Jeno’s hair again, hopelessly falling along with his motions. It’s not until he feels something slick between his buttocks does he actually clench his fists in alarm.

Jeno retracts against his hands just enough to free his mouth to speak, and the first thing that escapes is a breathy laugh.

“Only a little, I promise,” he reassures, completely bewildering Jaemin. He’s smiling again, and Jaemin wonders when he started finding it more sexy than annoying.

“By the way,” he adds before guiding his lips back to the tip of Jaemin’s erection. Deviousness and overwhelming confidence is back in his tone at full force. “You can fuck my mouth as much as you want.”

That said, he sinks back down.

The little bit he promised turns out to be his finger, newly slickened and earnest, dipping just barely in past the tight rim of his hole. Jaemin had been keeping himself from knocking his head back on the door (too often), but he completely loses himself at that, gasping loudly and throwing his head back soundly. With the addition of Jeno’s slender finger teasing him from behind, it became impossible _not_ to take him up on the offer—so Jaemin rocks back and forth helplessly, moaning breathlessly against the pleasure enveloping him from both sides.

In his careless movements, he ends up thrusting himself fully back on Jeno’s finger. The sudden depth of intrusion almost makes him cry in pleasure. Jeno seems to take the cue too and begins thrusting his finger in fully with earnestness. So much for just a little.

“M-More,” Jaemin stutters drunkenly, not even caring anymore.

Because Jeno’s mouth is well occupied, he responds by silently nudging a second finger in and working them both diligently. Jaemin does give out a little cry when Jeno hooks his fingers in just the right spot. The intensity of the sensation puts him at the edge of euphoria, and he loosens his death hold on Jeno’s hair in attempt to communicate.

Even though Jeno looks at him and seems to acknowledge it, he doesn’t move his mouth off. Instead, he works even harder, swirling his tongue and drilling his fingers with renewed zeal. Jaemin wants to protest but Jeno makes him feel so good, even reason is lost.

So he reaches his climax like that, stuttering his hips helplessly between Jeno’s mouth and fingers, knees shaking, and fingers desperately curled around Jeno’s dark locks. If he wasn’t so mind melted, he probably would have felt more guilt about cumming shamelessly into his rival’s mouth. Instead, it takes all of his energy and will just to remain standing.

When Jeno pulls his lips back, he makes a show of swallowing and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in the most sinful way. It’s lewd enough that even in his empty minded state, Jaemin has to look away, unable to face his own shame.

Jeno, on the other hand, stands up looking exceptionally pleased with himself. He presses a long kiss to Jaemin’s cheek, possibly because he remembered Jaemin’s earlier words; Jaemin didn’t know. One arm loops around Jaemin’s waist to help keep him upright while the other cages him against the door.

Snickering, he whispered, “Good payback for the coffee.”

Even though he was the one who started with that joke of an excuse, Jaemin wants to roll his eyes. His legs feel enough like jelly that he allows Jeno hold onto him. He feels undeniably satisfied, but somehow at the same time, not so. Wearily, he looks Jeno over.

He’s smiling in a way that’s unnervingly soft; no hint of the sharp tongued competitive devil Jaemin was used to. He’s close enough to see his eyelashes in the dark and the little shimmer of his eyes like little pools of stars at midnight. And he’s close enough for Jaemin to feel the heat from his own neglected erection, despite his somewhat gentlemanly attempt to keep it at a distance. Maybe that’s why Jaemin feels weirdly unsatisfied.

“Just the coffee, right?”

The look on Jeno’s face is nothing short of scandalized.

“What?”

“That was payback just for the coffee, right?” Jaemin speaks, a little more clarity returning to his voice. He feels a little possessed by absurdity, but he had long since resigned himself to his fate. Arms lifting up to gingerly curl around to the back of Jeno’s neck, Jaemin continues challengingly, “Don’t I owe you more for the advice? And the room?”

Jeno regards him carefully with an unreadable expression. That’s always been the annoying thing about his uncanny mind-reading ability: it seemed to be one-sided. Jeno so frequently could tell what he was thinking, but Jaemin couldn’t get a read on him at all in return. It’s the one place their rivalry feels unfairly unbalanced.

After a long moment, Jeno finally replies solemnly, “Do you want to owe me more?”

This time, it’s Jaemin’s turn to smirk. “Weren’t you going to share what gets you off?”

The way Jeno’s resolve crumbles is so apparent, it’s almost tangible. He can’t or doesn’t stop himself from slamming his lips onto Jaemin’s this time, tongue diving in to ravish his mouth with an almost brutal force. As strange as it is, Jaemin feels powerful in that moment, like he has something Jeno is dying for. Rather, he knows he does.

When they mutually part for air and Jeno haggardly pants, Jaemin feels glee explode in his chest. For once, he knows exactly what Jeno is thinking.

“You want to fuck me, don’t you?”

The words cause Jeno’s mouth to snap shut immediately. It’s the first time Jaemin sees his rival look completely frazzled, uncomposed— _messed up_. He loves it.

“Don’t you?” he ruthlessly goads again. “Since letting me use the room today was _so_ _helpful_ , I was considering letting you… But if you don’t want to—”

“Shut _up_ ,” Jeno growls.

Despite the roughness of his tone, there’s no spite in it, and Jaemin knows he hit the nail on the head. Folding his arms to pull Jeno closer, Jaemin mutters challengingly against his lips, “So do it then.”

  
The dash to Jeno’s bedroom is something between stumbles and a full sprint. Once there, Jeno practically throws him on the bed in restless desperation. Had he been more sane, Jaemin might have cursed at being manhandled, but instead he finds himself snickering snidely until Jeno’s on top of him silencing him with another kiss.

Jeno wastes no time relieving Jaemin of his shirt and then following with his own. It’s then that Jaemin finally sobers up a little, drinking in the sight of Jeno’s bare chest instead.

When he had his hand on his chest earlier, Jaemin could tell Jeno was muscular and toned. But seeing it bare and in this context is something else entirely. He’s like a perfectly sculpted Adonis, and Jaemin’s mouth starts to feel dry from the sight alone. Those graduate student sweatpants and t-shirts really didn’t do Lee Jeno’s body justice.

“Like what you see?” Jeno’s voice interrupts his thoughts.

“...you’re okay,” Jaemin lies with a performative rolling of his eyes, making Jeno snicker.

“Well, I like what I see too.”

It’s the last thing he says before he comes back down to kiss him again. They kiss and grind their hips together until Jaemin’s lips feel swollen and his cock begins to twitch with new interest. He never thought he could feel addicted to the sensation and flavor of another person’s mouth, but here he lies, entrapped and consumed.

He’s left in a bit of a daze still when Jeno finally pulls back in the dark and fully off the bed. It’s an opportunity to catch his breath and relish the freeing sense of blankness in his mind. Who knew sex could be so stress-relieving?

When Jeno comes back, he has a few things in his hands, one of which Jaemin immediately figures is lube. It wasn’t a coincidence or weird ploy when he had disappeared earlier from the foyer only to return to give the fingering of a lifetime. His suspicion is immediately confirmed when Jeno kneels between his legs and busies himself with coating his fingers again.

A sigh of contentment escapes his lips as Jeno wastes no time curving two fingers into him, thoroughly slickening his walls. It doesn’t take long, given the thorough finger fucking he received earlier, and Jaemin is able to close his eyes and enjoy the sensation. Only when his long fingers withdraw does he focus his dark-adapted vision on Jeno’s face.

His rival looks focused, squinting down at the other item in his hand with furrowed eyebrows. When Jaemin looks carefully enough, he sees it’s a condom. With how empty his mind is, he doesn’t have the brain power to even fathom what Jeno was doing. So he asks.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking the expiration date,” Jeno mumbles with a frown.

Jaemin feels a little giddy and a lot gleeful at that revelation. So he isn’t the only one.

“Been a while?”

Jeno looks down at him then, making pointed eye contact. His expression is stoic, but Jaemin knows when he has the upper hand. He grins when Jeno shakes his head and rips the little package open with his teeth.

“You drive me absolutely crazy.”

“I love seeing you riled up,” Jaemin mockingly coos back, replaying Jeno’s own words at him. Wrapping his legs around his rival’s waist and pulling him close, Jaemin pins him in place with his gaze, voice dropping low. “Even better if I’m the one doing it.”

Jeno drops his forehead down to meet Jaemin’s, holding his gaze while his hands busied themselves with rolling on the condom and lining his cock up. When Jaemin feels the gentle prod of the tip against his entrance, he inhales a stuttered breath in preparation.

He was prepared to be penetrated, to be fucked and ravished, but what he wasn’t prepared for was the way Jeno holds his gaze the whole time, with an intensity that makes him breathless. With their foreheads pressed together, he has nowhere else to look but into the dark expanse of Jeno’s eyes, glittering and serious. The way he looked, coupled with the sensation of being entered so slowly, is all too much.

Jaemin closes his eyes and surrenders.

Jeno starts slow, setting a painstaking pace. He slides his length out fully and guides it back in carefully, reaching deep with each stroke. Their chests are pressed together now, but Jaemin still can’t look. He feels Jeno placing soft, fluttering kisses against his neck and chest, the hairs of his head tickling Jaemin’s cheek. Why his rival is being so careful with him, so achingly cautious, is both confusing and frustrating.

“I-Is that all you got?” he chokes out, voice nearly cracking.

The question must have surprised Jeno, because he pauses and lifts his head. The stillness makes Jaemin dare to crack an eye open. Jeno’s dark expression greets him immediately, the very picture of desire. Of hunger. Jaemin’s heart inexplicably skips a beat.

“You really want me to show you?” Jeno asks, voice deep.

Jaemin’s done for. Really, really done.

“You can beg me if you wa—”

Jeno cuts him off with a strong snap of his hips, hitting harder and deeper than ever, and making Jaemin gasp. His pace becomes relentless after that, going hard and fast until Jaemin can do nothing but cry out with every thrust, voice melting with the sound of their skin slapping together.

His arms fly over his head to grip the pillows behind him when Jeno suddenly grabs him by the thighs. He lets himself be shifted as Jeno leans over him, bending his legs to rest over his forearms. The new angle bends his back just enough to feel a delicious stretch and put in plain view the sight of Jeno’s grudgingly perfect cock plunging into his hole. As embarrassing as the view is, Jaemin can’t tear his eyes away. Watching himself get fucked just turns him on more.

“You look so good,” Jeno tells him with every thrust. He scatters kisses on the inside of Jaemin’s legs, managing to be soft with his mouth even while his grip is hard. His dichotomy persists in every position he maneuvers them into, with brutally hard thrusts but feather soft kisses. How he can be so different all at the same time is lost on Jaemin.

And Jaemin _feels_ good; better than good. With Jeno drilling into him and his own hand jerking himself along to the pace, he doesn’t think he can feel better. It takes all of his concentration just to remember to breathe, leaving his body to be molded in Jeno’s hands like putty. When he feels himself get close again, he can’t even speak. He just lets out a saccade of sequentially higher pitched moans.

Just like always, Jeno reads his mind. He leans over to press a gentle kiss to his forehead without losing his pace.

“Me too, baby,” he softly whispers.

When he orgasms for the second time that evening, Jaemin’s eyes are squeezed shut. The darkness enhances every shuddering feeling of bliss, liquid relief painting his abdomen like artwork. Jeno’s pace is an erratic stuttering as he nears the edge himself, and with his own euphoria spilled out of him, Jaemin opens his eyes to watch Jeno come undone.

He’s messed up in a way Jaemin has never seen before: sweat matted bangs, blown pupils, haggard pants, and above all, an expression that’s just raw. Jaemin might have unwillingly thought he was sexy before, but this Lee Jeno—the Lee Jeno that’s hovering over him, losing himself to pleasure, staring down at Jaemin like he’s everything, this Lee Jeno is beautiful.

Jaemin lets Jeno fall to rest on top of him in a surprising demonstration of compliance. He even lets him close his eyes on his chest and breathe until his breaths are even again. Only when the glow of ecstasy has slowly faded away does Jeno come alive again, slowly and carefully pulling himself out from Jaemin’s over sensitized body. And Jaemin lets him go.

Despite his sharp words and sometimes crude actions, Jeno is surprisingly attentive with his care. He lets Jaemin stay on his bed silently while he cleans them up, and when he does finally lay down again, he keeps a respectful distance between them.

It’s Jaemin that finally breaks the silence. Consciousness is barely hanging on and his words are a little muddled, but he still manages to speak.

“Thanks for the conference room.”

The words make Jeno laugh, and whatever tension was left somehow melts away. Jaemin closes his eyes to the sound and feels a weak chuckle escape his own lips.

“Jaemin,” Jeno begins quietly after a while. “I know I said you can leave whenever you want. But you know...you can stay too.”

Maybe because he feels too boneless to move or maybe the soft lull of Jeno’s voice does something to him, Jaemin actually considers it. But instead of giving a straight answer, he sleepily mutters, “I need my laptop.”

“What? Why?”

Jaemin sighs and rolls onto his side, unwittingly bringing himself closer to Jeno.

“Gotta see if Doyoung-hyung replied.”

His answer makes Jeno chuckle quietly again. “He’s fast but not respond-in-the-middle-of-the-night fast. Didn’t he say morning?”

“Morning _latest_ ,” Jaemin corrects but not resisting when Jeno gingerly puts his arm around him. “Fine. Just...wake me up in an hour. ‘M sleepy.”

“You should be, you came twice today after a long time, right?” Jeno teases, reaching around to cover him with blankets. “What’s an hour going to do though?”

“Gotta check my email.”

“I really don’t think anything’s going to change in an hour.”

“Shuddup.”

Even with the harsh words, Jaemin burrows a little closer to Jeno’s warmth. He chalks the weakness up to his exhaustion and general post-orgasmic haze. For just an hour, he’d allow himself to stay in Lee Jeno’s bed like this.

For just an hour, he’d allow himself to stay in Lee Jeno’s arms.  
  


* * *

  
  
It ends up being long after an hour that Jaemin finally wakes up.

There’s streaks of early morning sunlight streaming in from the window, crowning Jeno’s head with rays of light. His rival is leaning over him with a gentle hand on his arm, looking far too alert for someone who had the same kind of night he did. Weirdly though, he doesn’t feel that mad, even when his bleary eyes see the time displayed on the nightstand beside him: 8:15 AM.

“Sorry to wake you up so early,” Jeno apologizes immediately when Jaemin rubs his eyes. “But Doyoung-hyung texted to say he finished revising your proposal and I know you wanted to have enough time to look everything over before it’s due.”

It’s surprisingly thoughtful of him—the gentle way he speaks and the extra care he takes to wake him. He’s even dressed again, respectfully, in sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hair, however, remains wildly tousled as evidence of the previous night’s escapades. Still, Jaemin can’t resist snarking with him as usual.

“What happened to waking me up in an hour?”

Jeno snorts as Jaemin yawns and slowly sits up.

“I tried but you slapped me like eight times and then rolled over.”

“Sounds about right,” Jaemin agrees with a shrug, fully admitting to his weakness of waking up. He never has been good at it.

“I got your laptop and made some coffee,” Jeno continues. “You can look it over here if you want. I know you’re eager.”

Then, he pauses, looking a little unsure. “But uh, of course, you can leave too, if you want to.”

He is, in fact, eager to look over the response. Less than a day ago, he would have bodily shoved Jeno out of the way without remorse to work on his proposal. But this day, in the early morning light, he remembers the amazing feeling of having his mind empty for once, to not have to think about anything and leaving all the stress of graduate school life behind.

Maybe it’s crazy, but he wants to feel that one more time.

“Shower,” he says.

Blinking, Jeno shifts off the bed to make room for Jaemin to stand. His eyes dip down briefly to glance over Jaemin’s nude body before snapping back up again, snapping his jaw closed along with them.

“Y-Yeah, sure. I’ll get you a towel.”

Before Jeno can move away, Jaemin grabs him by the hem of his shirt, making his eyes round with surprise. Jaemin levels his gaze with him, and says point blank:

“One more, right? For the advice.”

Jeno regards him with a look that seems blank on the surface, but his eyes glimmer with a familiar shine, one Jaemin had gotten used to seeing last night. Though he doesn’t verbalize his response, his head nods slowly and he draws closer like magnetism. Jaemin lets him circle his arms around him and slowly pull him close. Truth be told, he feels the pull of gravity too. Irresistibly.

The kiss they share then is nothing like the ones from the night before. It’s soft, almost tender. No tongue, no desperation, just soft lips on lips. It spreads warmth through every inch of Jaemin’s body, blossoming like a cherry red flush. Though it’s short, it’s strangely the most comforting he’s felt.

When they part, Jeno looks dazed enough to be drunk. A part of Jaemin wants to laugh and make fun like he always does, but he doesn’t and he’s not entirely sure why. So instead, he pushes Jeno back with a palm on his chest, grabs his wrist instead, and snatches the lube off the nightstand.

“In the shower?” Jeno groans, letting himself be dragged.

Jaemin smirks at him over his shoulder. “I’m still on the clock, after all.  
  


Needless to say, the shower goes longer than expected. They cleaned, played, then cleaned again. There was something thrilling about being pushed up against the wet glass walls under the spray of warm water; Jaemin reveled in it. He hadn’t really held his voice back much the night before, but in the shower, he really sang. Jeno didn’t complain either, nor stop him in any way, just moaned along with him like a practiced duet.

Once they’re out and actually clean, Jaemin sits at the table with his laptop immediately, towel around his waist and hair still faintly dripping. Though Jeno shakes his head at him and rolls his eyes, he also leaves him in peace to work with just a cup of coffee beside him. He doesn’t bring up whether or not Jaemin wants to leave again, and Jaemin doesn’t either.

It’s two hours later that Jaemin finally sits back and breathes a sigh of relief. The feedback he had gotten from Doyoung had been helpful. There were a few changes he suggested, a few areas to bolster, but mostly, just encouragement that things sounded good. For the first time, he finally feels ready to submit the proposal with full satisfaction that he’s done his best.

He clicks submit.

Only with that done does he finally remember to look for his phone. Thankfully, Jeno had picked it up at some point and set it aside neatly amidst the chaos of the night before.

As expected, he has about a dozen missed calls from Renjun and at least a dozen more text messages, ranging the full spectrum from annoyance to anger to concern. Sighing, he presses his friend’s number and prepares for the verbal smackdown he’s likely about to receive.

“You’re alive?” is the first thing Renjun says when he answers. Though he appears to sound nonchalant, there’s a faint timber of concern there too.

“Hi, Junnie,” Jaemin sighs. “Sorry I abandoned you last night.”

“Where the hell were you? You left half your stuff all over the place in the library, haven’t answered your phone all day, and your roommate said you never went home!” There’s a voice making faint protests from behind him before he continues. “Donghyuck and I thought the two of you went off and killed each other.”

Jaemin grimaces. “Uh. Well. I _am_ at Jeno’s.”

There’s a pause. Then: “Oh my god, is he alive?”

“Don’t overreact.” Jaemin frowns. “Of course he’s alive. I just...finished my proposal here.”

“...over night?”

“Yeah.”

“At Lee Jeno, your sworn enemy’s place?”

“...yeah.”

“That’s it?”

“ _Yeah_.”

There’s silence, then the background voice says something (Donghyuck, Jaemin presumes), and Renjun nearly yells into the receiver.

“Na Jaemin, you dirty _liar_! You guys did something, didn’t you?!”

 _More than one thing_ , Jaemin thinks to himself with a grimace. But he doesn’t say that. Actually, he doesn’t really say anything, which is still all the confirmation Renjun needs.

“Unbelievable,” Renjun breathes, exasperated. Jaemin can already visualize the way he’s probably shaking his head and pinching his brows. “After all that dramatic bitching and moaning you did, it was just sexual ten—”

“ _Junnie_ …” Jaemin cuts him off warningly.

“Okay, okay,” Renjun sighs. “I’m just glad to know you’re okay. Congrats on finally finishing your proposal.”

“Thanks. It feels good to finally be done,” Jaemin answers truthfully.

“You deserve a long rest.”

“Thanks, Junnie.”

“...maybe with Jeno.”

“ _Huang Renjun_.”

“So you really were in love with him? Totally called it.”

“Bye.”  
  


After the conversation with Renjun, Jaemin finally gets dressed and gathers his belongings. Jeno had left him alone for the morning, and when he steps out of the bedroom, Jaemin finds him sitting quietly in the kitchen looking through his phone. He looks up when Jaemin walks over to join him.

“Submitted?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers, stealing a piece of toast off his plate. “So now you’re done for.”

Jeno snorts. “Is that so?”

“Yup,” Jaemin continues between bites of bread. “When I win the grant, I’ll consider taking you on as a research assistant though.”

“ _When_?” Jeno repeats incredulously, sparing a laugh. “Suddenly you’re full of confidence?”

Jaemin shrugs. “I have to be.”

“What if I win?”

Jaemin regards him cautiously, as if it’s the first time he’s considered it. It isn’t, but he doesn’t want Jeno to know that. After pondering for a moment, he says, “If you win...I’ll give you what you want.”

“What?”

“One request.”

“Go on a date with me.”

“Oh, ew, Jeno, no. I meant like a blow job.”

At that, Jeno’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks at Jaemin in a skeptical but also amused way. “I won’t say no to that either but how is that _worse_ than going on a date with me?”

Slowly, Jaemin puts down the half eaten toast and stares down at it. Anything so that he doesn’t have to look back at Jeno. Truthfully, he answers, “I don’t know. It’s just...weird.”

“Why would it be weird?” asks Jeno quietly but seriously. Jaemin feels his gaze on him, and the pressure of it is enough to make him peek back up. With their gazes connected, Jeno continues, “Isn’t it obvious that I like you?”

There were a few times in the night before and this morning that Jaemin suspected it, but it’s different hearing it actually said aloud. Being told directly is shocking, and actually, a little intimidating.

“You...like me?”

Jeno has the decency to flush. 

“It’s not like I just go around sleeping with anyone, you know.” He pauses again, gaze darting nervously to the side once before shyly coming back to rest on Jaemin again. “Do you...like me?”

Seeing the confident, snarky Lee Jeno suddenly act bashful is another kind of mindblowing. It’s hard to overcome the initial shock and even harder to overcome the uncomfortable sensation fluttering in his stomach.

As frustrating as their rivalry has been, Jaemin has always held Lee Jeno in high regard as a result. He’s fought and argued with him countless times over the past year and a half, bult ultimately, he’s always strived to become better because of it. Because of _him_.

Last night and this morning, Jaemin let Jeno touch him and touched him back without restraint. There are dozens of excuses he could probably come up with to justify his actions: stress, frustration, goading, perhaps even temporary possession. But the fact still remains that he agreed to everything they did and even invited it—again and again. Whether it was _like_ or the respect of a rival, Jaemin isn’t entirely sure. He is willing to acknowledge though, that maybe he doesn’t hate Lee Jeno as much as he thought he did.

Ears burning hot, he lies nonchalantly one more time, “...you’re okay.”

Because he’s good as he is at reading Jaemin’s mind, Jeno gets the idea and breaks out a brilliant smile. It’s another sight Jaemin’s not used to—a look of sweet happiness without a hint of malice. On Jeno’s handsome face, it’s a stunning sight, and Jaemin gets that feeling in his stomach again: butterflies.

Desperate to change the subject, Jaemin clears his throat and looks away, “Can we eat now?”

“Oh?” Jeno drawls with a smirk. “You’ll let me come along?”

Jaemin snorts but feels comforted by the return of the usual banter. “I’ll let you come along and pay.”

“You want to open your debt tab to me up again?”

With a smirk, Jaemin leans forward until their bangs brush against each other. Just close enough to share a breath, but not close enough to touch. Matching Jeno’s gaze is easier at this proximity, and Jaemin knows he’s shining. Licking his lips just like Jeno had so many times before, he mutters:

“The payback hasn’t been too bad.”  
  


* * *

  
  
“Jaemin, are you serious right now?” Jeno groans.

“Stop moving, I’m trying to read.”

The turnaround for the results of the grant competition was three weeks. So for three weeks, Jaemin has been nonchalantly coming and going from Jeno’s place. For three weeks, he’s gone looking for Jeno with fewer excuses and even fewer reasons, much to Renjun’s disbelief. And for three weeks, he’s had the time of his life being fucked to heaven and back.

As things currently stand, or rather: _sit_ , he’s seated firmly on Jeno’s lap with his cock fully sheathed inside of him. The afternoon had started with work but quickly devolved into an uncontrollable make-out session. And because they didn’t pretend they could resist each other anymore, it only escalated from there, with Jaemin eagerly bouncing himself on Jeno’s lap without restraint. That was, until his email alert chirped.

At the sound, he immediately stopped his motions and sat fully down until Jeno groaned in frustration, focusing instead on leaning over the desk to read the print off his laptop.

Through clenched teeth, Jeno grits out, “You were the one who wanted to wait to check the bulletin board together, why are you bothering with the email?”

The grip he has on Jaemin’s hips is near bruising, speaking volumes of his frustration. Though Jaemin keeps him trapped and pinned to the chair, Jeno still grinds helplessly against him, the beginnings of curses on his lips.

“I still have to read the announcement to see if it’s posted,” Jaemin replies snidely, as if it’s obvious. At this point, he’s just relishing the power hold he has on Jeno; he already finished reading the statement that the results were up after the first warning. Then, he gets a wicked idea.

“Since you’re so desperate,” he coos, “why don’t you try and make me look away?”

“Y-You really,” Jeno growls, pushing him up until they’re standing and Jaemin’s forearms fall flat on the desk, “drive me fucking crazy.”

Jaemin smirks in response.  
  


After cleaning up Jeno’s desk and themselves in the shower, the two of them head for the graduate lounge where the results are posted. It feels like the day of destiny has finally come. And although Jaemin expected that he would feel more nervous, he surprisingly isn’t. Maybe that’s in the satisfaction of knowing he had done his best.

“I’m going to enjoy bossing you around, assistant,” Jaemin says confidently as they walk.

In response, Jeno just rolls his eyes. “Because you don’t do enough of that already.”

“I could always be doing it more.”

“Big talk considering I know your weaknesses.”

Jaemin raises his eyebrows at the challenge. “Which are?”

As always, Jeno doesn’t back down either.

“You have moderate symptomatic dry eye syndrome but always forget to bring tears with you. You can’t stand milk or strawberries. You have low blood pressure, and it makes you near impossible to wake up in the morning. You’re totally stubborn about your work like a perfectionist. And,” he smirks with his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth, “you love taking it from behind.”

“Excuse you,” Jaemin starts, frowning. “What does favorite sexual position have anything to do with my weaknesses?”

“It gets you weak enough to moan my name. You bet I’ll be remembering it.”

At that, Jaemin gives him a side look. Even with damp, unstyled hair, Jeno looks sexy—even more so when he wears that cutting look of confidence, the one that always lights a fire in Jaemin and makes him act up. There’s something else he considers now too, in the way that Jeno looks at him. There’s a fondness he no longer tries to hide, obvious enough that even Jaemin gets it.

“Junnie didn’t believe me about that,” Jaemin tells him.

“About what?”

“You collecting my weaknesses. I _knew_ you were.”

Jeno looks thoughtful for a moment before answering slowly, “Yeah, I was. But not for the reasons you think.”

They reach the graduate lounge when he says that, making Jaemin pause before opening the door.

“And what exactly are the reasons you think I have?”

“You thought I was keeping the information to use against you, didn’t you?” Jeno laughs. “Well, I guess I was. Just not that way.”

Jaemin looks at him expectantly, unsure of how things will proceed. Those weird butterflies in his stomach come alive again beyond his control, making his heart feel tight in his chest.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Jeno briefly interrupts himself. “I love competing with you. It makes me work harder and everything I do more exciting.”

He pauses to breathe and looks over at Jaemin sweetly before continuing, “I wanted to know your weaknesses so I could be there for you. I wanted to be the one you could lean on, not just compete with. I guess...I guess I’ve always liked you.”

If time could slow, Jaemin feels it at this moment. That magnetism, the gravity he so often felt when their bodies were connected, draws him closer. Slowly, until he stands in Jeno’s orbit, looking at him eye to eye.

“I guess,” he murmurs in proximity. “I guess after all this time, I know your weakness now too.”

“Yeah?” Jeno whispers back, lids dropping low.

“Yeah,” Jaemin grins. “Me.”

Then, he kisses him.

Because of the time and place, it’s a short one, just chaste lips against lips. Jaemin’s reminded of the kiss they shared the morning he submitted his proposal; the day this all began. Though that time was the first, this time isn’t the second nor even the third time he feels that way again. Comforted, at ease, content.

However still, there’s a competition to win, so he pulls back out of reach when Jeno leans in more, laughing brightly as he pulls the door open.

The billboard post is a little old school, and Renjun had told him he was being weird about wanting to check it there when it was so much easier to just read an email. But there’s something strangely symbolic of approaching the board together with his rival, like approaching a finish line. Excitement bubbles up in him again, and he spares one last grin in Jeno’s direction before turning to the post.

The winner of the grant they worked so desperately hard for for the past year and a half is—

“ _Mark Lee_?!”

Jaemin whips his head back in surprise to gape at Jeno, who looks a little contemplating but not entirely shocked.

“I was worried it might be him,” Jeno mutters thoughtfully. “The two of us always get so wrapped up in competing with each other, we forget about him.”

In that, he’s right, Jaemin admits. Mark Lee, the other top of their department, whose work stands at the same level as theirs but is often forgotten due to his sweet, quiet nature. He’s a year ahead, and every bit as brilliant as Jaemin and Jeno. Perhaps even more so with his extra experience, Jaemin reluctantly admits. It feels like poetic justice for them to both lose, but at least it’s to a worthy opponent. If anything, it makes the blow feel less harsh.

“Guess you won’t be bossing me around more then,” Jeno manages to laugh.

Jaemin crosses his arms and shoots him a tiny frown. “No date for you either.”

“Hmm? Haven’t we been on plenty of dates the last three weeks?”

“Food and sex don’t count.”

“What do you think dates are, baby?”

“...you’re such an ass.”

At that, Jeno laughs louder, brows knit up charmingly even as Jaemin scowls. Holding his hands up in surrender, he continues, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. If you’d be willing to bend the rules of our agreement, I’d still like to take you on a date. A real date. Romancing and all.”

Arms still folded in a facade of irritation, Jaemin regards his rival carefully as if still considering the proposal. Still, he lets Jeno pull him close and fold him into his arms. When had he gotten so weak?

“Fine,” he breathes after a while, giving up and resting his head on Jeno’s shoulder. “But I’m still bossing you around.”

“Mm, and I’ll still be fighting back.” Jeno holds him tight. “ _Rival_.”

The moment melts into something pleasant, all disappointment at the loss flitting away. There’s a weird feeling in Jaemin’s chest, something effervescent that makes him want to hug his dumb rival back and kiss him again, earnestly. He almost does, but a voice interrupts them before he can move.

“Oh, uh, hey guys.”

They pull apart at once and turn to stare at the new arrival with twin looks of surprise. Mark Lee looks back at them with an equally surprised expression, but more probably so because he then realizes they hadn’t noticed him coming in.

“I guess you guys saw the news,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Jeno is the first to move, putting on a genuine smile and offering a hand to shake. “Yeah, congratulations, man.”

“Thanks,” Mark answers, smiling back at Jeno and taking his hand. When he looks over, Jaemin manages a soft smile as well. It’s impossible to be mad at Mark, even for winning the competition.

“So I actually wanted to ask you guys something,” Mark starts again. “Honestly, I was a little worried because everyone told me you guys don’t get along, but it’s nice to see you’re actually such good friends.”

Unsure of how much Mark had seen or heard, Jaemin exchanges a passing look with Jeno, who looks just as stunned. Mutely, his rival nods along in agreement and stutters out, “Uh, y-yeah. We’re okay.”

Mark looks relieved and pleased at the same time at the response, offering them both a pleasant smile.

“Anyway, I wanted to ask if the two of you were interested in collaborating with me on my research. The grant leaves enough to hire assistants, and we’re all in the same faculty with similar topics of proposal. Dr. Lee told me you two are the best in your year, so I thought...maybe, would you want to work with me? I think we can factor in parts from both of your proposals to merge with mine.”

Unsure if he’s heard correctly, Jaemin looks at him in disbelief. “You want to share the grant with us?”

“Um, yeah?” Mark blinks. “If you’re interested.”

“Okay, but who’s assistant number one?”

“What?”

Jeno cuts in with a laugh, taking hold of Jaemin’s arm to keep him from jumping Mark any further. Just like always, he’s flawless with the mindreading, and more collected when Jaemin is fired up.

“What he means is we’d love to collaborate, hyung. Thanks for giving us the opportunity.”

“Cool,” Mark answers, looking happy. “This is going to be great. I’ll give you guys the details over email. Feel free to drop by my lab anytime too.”

With that, their friendly senior waves and disappears through the doors with a smile, leaving the two of them in solitude again.

“That was unexpected,” Jeno breathes in relief, running a hand through his hair and looking a touch bewildered. “But good. So we both win a little after all.”

In response, Jaemin just clicks his tongue and taps Jeno’s chest harshly. “ _I’m_ going to be assistant number one though.”

“Oh, are you?” His rival’s eyes narrow with the challenge, giving him a heady look. “Is that a challenge?”

Jaemin grips his shirt and fixes him with a smirk.

“You know it, _baby_.”

Jeno licks his lips in anticipation.

“Bring it on then.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, thanks for reaching the end! Hope you've enjoyed the adventures of "oooh you want to kiss me so bad" / "and what if I do" graduate student competitors Jaemin and Jeno. This project was supposed to be a short and experimental piece to try something different...but clearly things didn't go that way. It's just an impossibility for me to write something sexy without a ton of exposition and a lot of soft, lovey feelings, I guess. :P
> 
> I actually have a few more scenes in mind for this universe, like: shenanigans they get into in Mark's lab under Mark's sweet, unsuspecting "they seem like very good friends" nose, and how Jaemin eventually drops the L word. But those didn't quite work here (considering the pacing, not to mention length...), so I'm not sure if I should append it as an epilogue, post a whole new work like a series, or just leave it out entirely. I'm always so indecisive about these type of things, haha. Maybe let me know what you think?
> 
> I'm working on a Valentine's Day project too, so hopefully see you all soon~ Thanks again so much for reading, and please drop a line if you can!


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